“HA! I wish,” I murmured. Then, my heart sank again, sort of like it would the next day, when I would realize that my time had run out, and like it had a week before, when I had watched something truly beautiful appear to meet its end.

And then suddenly, on an ordinary Wednesday afternoon, the answer struck me like a football to the nose (happened in middle school, unpleasant): Nothing. There is nothing that I can do to make them like me.

I can feel us flying up roads where even Taco Bell signs were plated in gold, and I can also recall strange leaves – – gold, copper and gray, like jewelry mixed with ash — littering the ground everywhere.